


lightning in my heart

by drashian



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Agender Character, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Female James T. Kirk, Mirror Universe, Other, Trans Character, Transgender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drashian/pseuds/drashian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had only been a few months into her five year mission, and her luck hadn’t run out, precisely. She just didn’t have any in the first place.</p><p>or, that time Jim and Spock confronted themselves and not in the philosophical way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at a chapter fic in a long time! And I think I will actually be successful this time (I am eternally sorry to the MCU fandom by the way).
> 
> This fic features trans girl Jim Kirk (whose name is Jim) and dfab agender masculine-presenting Spock, as well as some minor trans characters who may come up later or may remain in my own apocrypha.
> 
> (Title is from [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2qsoDSGMRFI).)

The ship was vibrating (in the abnormal way) when Jim was woken up by the furious beeps of her communicator. She groaned and pulled it close to her face, her eyes still adjusting to the dark. “Lights to 75,” she said hoarsely and blinked at the brightness in her room. “Kirk here.”

“Captain, we’re experiencing widespread electrical interference. The transporters are going haywire.”

She sat up, patting around her blindly to find where she’d discarded her tights. “Haywire like they’re going to be out of commission or—“

“Haywire like something’s trying to materialize. The storm is making it practically impossible to stop.”

“I’ll be right there.” She yanked on her tights and boots and didn’t bother to change her wrinkled, slept-in uniform. Almost as soon as she was out the door she saw Spock also heading towards the lift. She jogged to catch up to him.

“Captain,” he said, nodding his head in greeting as they arrived at the lift. She finger combed her hair desperately but it was futile. There was no stopping it from sticking straight up once it started.

“Can we go a week without a security emergency? For once?” she said, smoothing out her skirt. “Five year missions are supposed to be peaceful exploration, not intergalactic crises all the time.”

They both knew that, given the political unrest all around, the assignment of the Enterprise to a five year mission was guaranteed to be cut short. She’d accepted it anyway, glad to have a reason to get out of the constant construction zone that had become Starfleet. It had only been a few months though, and her luck hadn’t run out, precisely. She just didn’t have any in the first place.

“I am loathe to attribute negative or positive outcomes to good or bad luck. There is always a better explanation. But in this case, superstition is becoming much more likely,” Spock said. Jim snorted. That was probably as close to a joke as he’d ever come.

Just as Jim and Spock arrived in the transporter room, the air before them shimmered in light and two figures materialized. She looked at the transporter crew who were split between gaping at the intrusion and furiously pressing buttons to try to stop it.

The man on the left was tall and broad-shouldered, his nose crooked, his eyes a familiar bright blue. Jim immediately knew it was her—how, why, she had no idea, but it was definitely some alternate version of her. She felt it like the basest instinct. He was wearing this sleeveless wrap, which would have been hilariously overcompensating if his biceps hadn’t actually been so impressive. To his left was a shorter Vulcan woman with black hair and pale skin and—oh God, wait, that was definitely Spock. Jim whipped her head to look at her Spock just in time to see his eyebrow twitch. It was basically like he had just screamed in shock in Vulcan. It would be funny if it wasn’t so fucking uncomfortable, both of them staring at these weird what-could-have-beens. And, unsurprisingly, their other selves were reacting similarly. 

“Identify yourselves.” The female Spock was the first to speak. Jim’s Spock was radiating discomfort. She kinda knew what he was feeling.

Jim ran a nervous hand through her hair. “Captain Kirk of the USS Enterprise.” She jerked her head at Spock, seeing he wasn’t going to open his mouth any time soon. “My First Officer, Spock.”

The other Spock frowned in that appraising, sterile way Jim was all too familiar with and fuck, this was so creepy. All the annoying mannerisms she was used to on the fit, lean body—and she was getting an eyeful with the bare midriff uniforms that had apparently become popular in whatever universe they’d walked out of. She kind of wanted one.

“I am Commander Spock of the ISS Enterprise,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back.

“And I’m James Kirk. What kind of trick is this?” the alternate Jim said and fuck, he even sounded like her, or what she would have sounded like if things had gone differently.

“Maybe you should tell me,” she said. “You are on my ship.”

The pair looked around then, Kirk (she was just going to call him Kirk) openly screwing up his face in distaste at, well, something. She raised an eyebrow. There was nothing wrong with the Enterprise.

The alternate Kirk and Spock made eye contact briefly. “This is similar, though not identical to our own Enterprise,” Spock said, her face blank, maybe a bit more blank than Jim was used to on her own Spock. “And, to all appearances, we are looking at ourselves.”

Everyone nodded slowly. It was obvious to all of them, but someone needed to say it. She breathed slowly, adrenaline keeping her on her toes.

Her Spock spoke up, finally. “You stated the ‘ISS Enterprise’. Where do your affiliations lie?”

“Starfleet, under the command of the Terran Empire.”

The two Spocks were glaring at each other.

“Fascinating. There is some documentation of a parallel universe to ours, but reports are incomplete and usually attributed alternate explanations.”

“I do not recall records of such encounters, though, of course, I am unable to consult my computer to check.”

At least Kirk seemed to have the same reaction to the Spock-off as Jim did. They looked at each other hopelessly. She didn’t miss the hand he kept on his hip, fingers brushing his phaser.

“I am sure that our Starfleet’s records will prove sufficient.”

“For your purposes, perhaps.”

“If you’re done comparing dicks,” Jim said. Both Spocks raised their eyebrows at her. She stuck her tongue out at (her) Spock. “Don’t look at me like that, one of your faces is enough for me.” She huffed. “What are we supposed to do with them? Parallel universe or not, this is kind of a problem.”

Spock inclined his head toward her. “I think it best we provide them quarters for the moment. Such an issue is unlikely to be resolved within the next few hours.”

“Sounds perfect.” She looked at the transporter crew who were still present, raptly watching the whole conversation. “I want to keep this inside this room for now, until we know how to proceed. We don’t need the whole crew panicking over the possibilities.”

Both Spocks nodded. Kirk kept his eye on her and as she took a step toward him, whipped out his phaser and trained it on her chest.

She rolled her eyes. “Come on. If you’re really me, you know that’s hardly going to stop me.” Kirk’s eyes flickered to Spock and the transporter crew, whose phasers were already out, and his Spock, who crossed her arms and shrugged the tiniest bit.

He lifted his hands slowly and dropped the phaser, which Jim didn’t hesitate to confiscate, along with the other Spock’s, and both of their daggers. Daggers? Seriously?

She stared Kirk down. “Going to come along peacefully then?” she said. He nodded once, not breaking gaze.

She led the other three to the brig. At Kirk’s beginning to protest, she just huffed and pointed out that he’d already pulled a weapon on the captain, which was ample reason to lock him up. “I’m putting you in individual cells and keeping your presence here almost unknown. You’ll hopefully be spared the probing eyes of my entire crew.” She arched an eyebrow at Kirk. “And if you are really just like me, I don’t think you should try breaking out.”

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes amused, but didn’t contest what she said. “We will be good prisoners for the night,” he said.

“That’s not really reassuring, especially from my own mouth.”

Kirk smirked but nodded, entering his cell without any pleasantries. Not really surprising, given the situation. The other Spock (and Jim was already thinking about nicknames for them) nodded her head and entered her cell, no doubt to interrogate the computer and try to hack the whole ship.

Jim shook her head as soon as they were gone. “Those two give me the heebie-jeebies. They’re like our evil twins.”

“That seems to be the universe they come from. From what I remember, it was always characterized as violent and conquering. They are more cunning and ruthless than we ever could be.”

“Oh, great,” Jim said, starting down the hall to the lift. “Just what we needed. Evil alternate universe selves. Because there wasn’t enough shit to deal with in one universe.”

Spock sighed gently. “Part of the Enterprise’s mission is to deliberately seek the unknown. It only seems that the unknown always manages to find us first.”

Jim rolled her eyes and ordered the lift to her floor. “Whatever. And, by the way, what’s up with the gender swap? Is it like the ‘what could have been’ universe?”

Spock stiffened slightly beside her, almost ignored, but Jim had learned that every move he made spoke magnitudes. “I have a theory,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “But I am not sure.”

“Oh yeah?” she said, her eyebrows arched. “When are you ever not sure?”

“The mirror universe may contain what would be if we had followed a different path.” He said it delicately and Jim frowned, trying to read between his words. “I am not sure because there are a great number of factors at play. I will have to deliberate further. Perhaps you can provide me input as well.”

She looked longingly at her bedroom door as they arrived before it. “Can we deliberate in a few hours?” she said, thinking fondly about nice, soft beds.

“Of course. I often forget how much sleep you require.”

“Wait, how much do you sleep?”

“I usually sleep every other night, or for only a few hours every night.”

Jim shook her head. “Fucking Vulcans.”

“Full-blooded Vulcans sleep less than I do,” Spock said. “We can go without sleep for a week if need be, though it’s not pleasant.”

“Okay, that’s just freaky. Those of us here with red blood need to sleep tonight.” She smiled thinly at Spock and opened her door, stepping in and closing the door with a slightly mocking salute.

She faintly heard him retreat to his own quarters before she stripped her uniform off. Not bothering to put on anything but her underwear, she flopped down on her bed, falling asleep blessedly fast. In her dreams, her reflection kept showing stubble on first glance.

Jim only rang the doorbell once at Spock’s door before she overrode it and came in uninvited. Spock was in the middle of standing from his desk but didn’t look surprised she had come in anyway.

“Let’s do this,” she said, sitting on the foot of his bed. He sank back in his chair.

“I have checked all known records of the parallel universe and what they say lines up with what information we have, though of course, we are greatly limited.” He handed her his PADD. Jim skimmed some sketchy information on the Terran Empire, on a history of violence, a list of conquered races.

“Everything we shouldn’t have done, we did,” she said, handing him back the PADD and frowning. “So they’re literally our evil twins.”

Spock quirked his lips. “In a manner of speaking.”

She lay back, kicking her legs in annoyance and staring at Spock’s white ceiling. “Is that what you meant by another path?”

“Somewhat. I believe that this alternate universe would have created a very different early life for both of us and, presumably, all others, so certain truths to this universe would not be true there, leading to their apparent physical differences.”

Jim sat up, a laugh bubbling on her lips even as she crossed her arms. “So wait, you mean that if we’d grown up in this evil universe, we would be…” She paused, cocking her head at Spock. “Are you saying we’re…?”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “We are what?” he said with that horrible look like he knew exactly what she was talking about already.

“So you’re implying if we’d grown up in that world we wouldn’t have transitioned or something so that’s why they’re some freaky gender flip?”

He nodded, his lips tight.

Jim laughed. “What the fuck, Spock, why doesn’t anyone tell me these things?” Because hey, maybe it would have been relevant that her First Officer and close friend was trans. Just maybe. There were few who hadn’t at least heard the rumors about her, but Spock?

“If you had taken the time to read my file thoroughly, it would have become clear to you,” he said simply. She was getting the distinct impression he wasn’t exactly here for a heart-to-heart about this. And, thinking about the handsome male version of herself, she wasn’t really feeling it either. His face made something ugly twist in her gut.

She huffed at him. “Fine. Berate me for not spending all my free time reading paperwork instead of rethinking your social skills.”

He cocked his head a bit at that because he probably thought that was a perfectly logical course of action.

“I’m gonna make you open up some time, you know. I’ve seen you all broken down more than once and I know it’s possible. You’re trying to ignore it but that’s bullshit. We both know what happened.” Her voice was getting dangerously loud and this was turning into the interrogation/vent session she’d never gotten to have after her rise from the dead.

“It was a lapse in control,” he said quietly, his hands gripping his knees tighter. “I do not intend that one incident set a precedent for a spree of emotional displays.”

“Oh, okay. So you’re just going to go back to being a cold, expressionless asshole.”

He looked up at her, his face blank but something hinting at desperation in his eyes. “My control over my emotions does not mean that they do not exist. It is the way of my people and it is how I have chosen to live.”

Jim stood, gesturing vaguely at herself. “But Spock, look, it’s _me_. You know that I know that you think I’m your best friend, which is kind of awesome, but holy shit, you have to trust me. I get that Vulcans are super private but God, you should be able to talk to me. I wish you could.” She was pacing angrily but, if she was being honest, she didn’t even feel angry. She just felt sad.

“It is not my wish to burden you with all of my passing emotions, nor to change my cultural practices.” She turned to look at him. He was watching her with wide eyes, curious. She raised her eyebrows and he sighed. “But I suppose I could try some extent of communication about such matters.”

She crossed her arms, not really satisfied but what could you do with a stubborn Vulcan, really?

“It is not for lack of trusting you that I find it hard to share intimacies, but rather because I am unpracticed in the art of doing so in the first place.” He looked embarrassed and as she sat again on the bed across from him she smirked.

“So you’re saying you’ve never had any friends before,” she said, hiding her laughter behind a hand at his vaguely indignant look.

He shrugged.

She gasped. “Oh my God, it’s true.”

“I have had close bonds. You are, of course, aware of my relationship to Uhura—“

She waved him off. “Yeah, and that’s going so well.” He started to protest but she rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m teaching you middle school level best friend shit and it’s gonna be great. You’ll get so good at doing my makeup and gossiping no one will even know you used to be a reclusive Vulcan nerd.”

He frowned, opened his mouth to reply, decided better, and closed it again. Jim, of course, erupted into laughter and fell down on his bed, thinking about his confused fish face. The moment ended quickly because it was always really awkward to be the only one laughing in a room. She wiped her eyes as Spock stared at her blankly, which only made her giggle more. Standing, Jim started toward the door.

“Let’s round up the evil twins now,” she said. “And sleepover later.” Spock stood to follow her immediately, no comment on the sleepover plans.

They hadn’t escaped, which was kind of a surprise if Jim was being honest. Kirk was silent, content to watch her with a creepy appraising stare. She felt his eyes on her even when she turned around to open (other) Spock’s holding field. She felt naked and tugged her uniform’s skirt lower to maybe keep some sense of dignity.

The female Spock nodded at them both in cold greeting, also silent, but that was to be expected. Jim looked at her—black hair in a crisp bob, lithe, her face nearly identical to Jim’s Spock—and decided her name could be Spockier for now. She was definitely colder than Spock, probably a result of their cutthroat society. Her face was always perfectly blank but something deadly lurked in the way she examined people.

Jim led them to an interrogation room, briskly ordering the recordings only be available to her and Spock. Kirk insisted on standing, his arms crossed, eyes assessing his chances of escape, but Spockier sat coolly.

“You are Captain James Tiberius Kirk and Commander Spock of the ISS Enterprise, under the command of Starfleet of the Terran Empire,” she said, sitting down, PADD in hand with all known information on their universe. Spockier nodded once. Kirk was hardly even listening which didn’t surprise her. Jim figured she would do the same thing—actually, more than figured. This was, in a weird way, _proof_ that she would do the same thing.

“Detail for me the circumstances leading up to your arrival on my transporter pad.” Jim heard Spock settle into the chair next to her but didn’t look his way.

“The two of us were on a routine stop at Gamma 7. The Captain received a transmission that there were widespread short circuits across the Enterprise’s power system and our presence was requested lest the transporter capabilities be disabled. As we beamed back aboard, something must have gone wrong, because when we materialized, we were on your ship, not our own.” Spockier folded her hands in front of her. “If we had come to your universe with malintent, we would have brought more weapons, at least. “

Jim snorted. “It seems both of our ships were experiencing some kind of electrical malfunction. We were passing through an ion storm.”

Spockier made a disinterested noise. She was looking at Spock like a particularly frustrating piece of modern art. He didn’t move but Jim thought he was holding his shoulders a bit stiffer than usual. Which was really, really stiff.

“So what are you gonna do with us? Keep us locked up in our cells? Kill us? Unravel all our secrets?” Kirk said, turning and slamming his hands on the table. Jim bit her tongue to keep from reacting.

“Return you to your own universe,” Spock said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Kirk’s jaw twitched. “And what if we don’t want to go back.”

Jim stood to meet his gaze. “Then we will send you back in cuffs. One of me is enough to terrorize this ship; I have no need for an evil twin.”

He moved to grab the front of her uniform but she snatched his wrist, twisting it backward and slamming him to the table. The Spocks watched with interest but didn’t move.

“You will get off my ship,” she hissed into his face.

He sneered. “Or I will kill you and take your place.”

Spock stood, grabbing Kirk’s other arm just when it started to grab for Jim’s neck. “You will be returned to your cell now,” he said evenly and pulled him up, holding both arms behind his back. Kirk writhed in his grasp and spat insults at Jim but couldn’t break free.

Jim followed behind Spockier, ready to grab her if she made a move, which she didn’t, of course. Jim sighed once they were deposited in their cells and she couldn’t hear them any more.

“Let’s get them the fuck off my ship,” she said and Spock nodded and sighed.

Which was, incidentally, easier said than done, because when they arrived at the transporter room, they found it half disassembled.

“What the hell is this?” she said, gesturing the nearest crewmember over.

“Power instabilities in the transporter pad are making it nearly impossible to rely on it. We’re practically rewiring the whole place.” The young cadet blinked rapidly, obviously unused to being addressed by superiors, let alone the captain.

Jim looked at Spock, slumping over. “Awesome,” she said, waving the cadet away. “Just fucking awesome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRUE HORROR: IN THE MIRROR UNIVERSE, EVERYONE IS CIS.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for some alcohol use in this chapter.

It had been a week. A week. Seven whole days. Kirk had tried to kill her ten times, which would be hilarious if it hadn't directly involved her life. Jim lay in her quarters in sweatpants and a tank top, unwilling to come out until her shift started, which wasn’t until tomorrow. But she couldn’t sleep, even as the clock ticked towards and then past 0145. As more and more of her crew found out about the alternate pair, she’d gotten more weird stares and awkward questions. It was honestly killing her position as the captain. Spock, too, had been even more reclusive than usual, if possible.

The doorbell rang and, upon asking who it was, she let Bones in. He shook his head at her appearance, sitting on the end of the bed.

“What’s up?” she said, shifting her weight to lean against him and spy on his PADD.

“Blood tests are back. You’ve got a twin, down to the last drop,” he said drily. She rolled her eyes at the display showing a 100% genetic match—of course they were genetic matches.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she said, falling onto her side.

“Your twin can bench more than you,” he offered.

She threw a pillow at him. “Don’t you dare.”

He chuckled. “Come on, Jim, you’ve got to stop moping around. Just because we’re all stuck on the ship and your evil twin is trying to kill you and the girl Spock has broken through our firewalls at least three times today—“

“She _what_?” Jim sat up. “Fuck her. Seriously, fuck her.”

Bones nodded. “Nothing we couldn’t handle, obviously, but still not a good sign. We need to get them off this ship.”

They’d rewired the transporter in a day, of course, but every attempt to recreate the electrical anomaly and send the parallel pair to their own universe had fried out the console. It was to the point where half of Engineering was on repair and the other half was calculating how exactly to safely get them home.

“Don’t I know it,” Jim said. “I’m sick of interrogating them for nothing and having constant attempts on my life. And I’m not sure that the brig can hold Kirk for much longer, let alone Spockier. They’re—we’re—too fucking good.”

“Spockier?”

She laughed. “She’s like Spock, but, y’know, more.” She gestured in front of her chest.

Bones snorted and nodded. “Makes sense.”

She put her head on his shoulder and he shrugged her off. “I’m so fucking sick of my crew staring at me like I have two heads. And I wanna get drunk.”

“I can’t help you with the first one, but the second…” Bones grinned. Jim bounced to her feet.

“Thank God! I’m not saying I haven’t been drinking by myself, but this is way better.”

Bones rolled his eyes. "I'm pretending I didn't hear that." Jim disappeared into her closet for a moment and returned wearing her off duty uniform and holding a half-empty bottle of vodka. She poured them both shots, winking at Bones before they downed them.

“So,” he said, after blinking a few times, “When’s the next try to get them home?”

“Tomorrow, I think,” she said. “And everyone’s saying it will work this time for sure.”

“Which they said last time. And the time before that.”

Jim nodded and took another shot, straight from the bottle this time. “Exactly.”

Bones sighed and snatched the bottle from her. “What the hell’s gotten into Spock?” he asked, his nose wrinkling a bit because Spock was still on his shit list for a lot of reasons (first on the list: punching Jim).

Jim laughed and accepted the shot glass Bones handed her. “Same as me, I guess. Seeing what would have been in a different world. The abyss staring back.”

“I don’t think that’s what that quote means.”

Jim snorted and waved her hand. “Whatever. But I sympathize—and, by the way, why didn’t anyone, including you, tell me?”

Bones, bless him, actually tried to look innocent when he asked, “Tell you what?”

She punched his shoulder hard. He rubbed it, his ego bruised more than his skin. “You know what. It’s bullshit!”

Scowling, Bones shrugged. “Because it’s Spock. Because he’s so private anyway, and plus it’s not like it’s my secret to tell.”

Jim had to give that to him because she knew so well that he was right and that in a world where Bones had told her a year ago, she would have been pissed that he’d breached confidence. It didn’t do anything to soothe her annoyance at Spock.

“He should have told me himself,” she said, frowning at the full glass still in her fingers. She drank it smoothly and grabbed the bottle, pouring herself two in a row before Bones could get a word in edgewise. "And I resent the idea that it should be a secret."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, Jim scrolling through some messages that didn’t require complete sobriety to respond to and Bones tweaking his staff’s schedule for the next week. Jim was pleasantly buzzed, warm and a little fuzzy, but still mostly competent.

She laid her head in Bones’ lap after a bit, which made him grumble but adjust to give her more room. She read over the security files on her twin prisoners, then read them again, then made a list of things she needed with only a few typos and sent them to Giotto.

Bones shook her awake and she smacked her forehead on his PADD in her hurry to sit up. “When did I fall asleep?” she said, her stomach clenching with anxiety and a bit of sickness from the vodka.

“A few hours ago. You’re dead weight on my lap. You’re lucky I didn’t leave you on the floor.”

She grinned at him. “You made a wonderful pillow,” she said sweetly, standing to check the time. Her shift would be starting soon. “Okay, okay, I’m getting dressed now,” she said and Bones made his way slowly out of her room, playing at staying behind for the show but both of them knew he had no real interest.

Jim showered briefly before putting on her uniform, toweling her short hair off and trying to get it to stay neat in vain. It stuck up a bit at the back and the bangs would inevitably tangle within ten minutes. She left it alone, deciding to put on some quick makeup before rushing to the bridge.

Spock was already there when she came in. He nodded at her and indicated that there were status reports on her PADD that needed reading, which she did with as much dramatized boredom as she could get away. He only raised an eyebrow. He really was out of it this week.

She lasted as long as she could on the bridge but eventually handed the com to Spock so she could stretch her legs and check on the progress in Engineering.

Scotty clapped her on the back as soon as she came in the door and took her on a mini tour. “You see, we’ve got a brilliant circuit wired up here—absolutely no chance of it reversing and blowing up our transporter. It’s going to go perfectly this time, one hundred percent.” She was almost convinced. Scotty was not so stupid as to not realize their track record was working against them.

“When will we be ready?” she said after looking over all of their calculations and approving. She wasn’t exactly a physicist or an electrical engineer but she had at least a working knowledge, enough to tell her that this was far beyond her skill level, but it seemed sound enough.

“Later today, 14 or 1500, I’d say.” He looked to Keenser for approval, who nodded from on top of a fuel pipeline.

“Contact me once you’re prepared and I’ll have the kids down here in ten. There’s no one who wants them off this ship more than me.”

Scotty scoffed. “It’s not you who has to repair half the ship’s power system as well as the entire transporter capabilities every day.”

Jim gave him that and let him get back to work, taking the long way back to the bridge.

1300 rolled around and she started to get antsy, anxiety building at the base of her gut and making her pace the bridge periodically. Sulu scolded her a couple times halfheartedly but by now everyone knew what was happening in less than an hour.

At 1400 exactly, her PADD beeped and she swooped it up, opening the notification. As it loaded, Spock’s communicator beeped, then the other officers on the bridge, until everyone was looking at each other for a still moment as every alert started to beep. Then the general security alarm raised and everyone jumped into action. Jim felt sick as she looked down at the text on her alert.

“They got out,” she said breathlessly and dropped her PADD and sprinted out the room. She heard footsteps behind her and knew that Spock was coming too.

Giotto intercepted her halfway to the brig. “They just broke out,” he said with the voice of someone who had given too many orders in too short a time. “No clue where they went after—cameras were knocked out in the area and we’re combing the rest of the ship electronically and by foot. But they’re good.” He shook his head.

“How did this happen?” she said, staring at the empty cells.

“Kirk—the male—the Kirk that isn’t, you know, he implemented a worm via voice command. We didn’t even think that was possible. Spock broke into the console there as soon as he broke her field open.” Giotto nodded his head at a small screen that five security officers and one engineer were crowded around.

Jim nodded and clenched a fist. “We need to concentrate on the escape pods and the transporter room. Every way off this ship. Hell, even send a detail down to the trash chute. Any opening, any escape, any way they have to get out of here.” Giotto nodded once and gestured his officers over, planning their orders and barking them into his communicator.

Jim looked at Spock, who was predictably blank-faced while examining where the force field holding Spockier had stood.

“Spock?” she said and her voice was a lot weaker than she’d meant it to be.

He turned and looked at her, his eyes unreadable but if there’d been a pop quiz she would have guessed he was feeling betrayed somehow.

“Where would you go?” Her voice was stronger. She came to stand by his side, tracing the path from the cell to the console.

He considered for a moment. “If they wanted to go back to their own universe, they wouldn’t break out, they would just wait and be sent back legitimately.”

Jim chewed her lip. “They have to get off the ship and there’s not many ways off. The longer they stay, the more chance they have to get caught. Escape pods are too obvious and too easy for us to shut down.”

“The transporter pad is wired to attempt a trans-universe jump and would require at least some time to rewire to allow them to stay within this one,” he continued.

She hummed at him and read the incoming reports on her PADD. They were in full lockdown and nothing was coming up.

Spock frowned. “We have to lock ourselves down,” he said, looking at the console Spockier had hacked. It was displaying a bright blue error screen that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times they rebooted and disconnected it and wiped its memory. “Not metaphorically, but literally. Both of our voice recognition, our biometrics, everything has to be locked.”

Jim stepped next to him, watching the engineer curse and smack at it. “Damn,” she whispered and pulled a security officer aside. Of course, they were genetically identical—including fingerprints and eye scans, not to mention it would be easy enough to fake the voice.

“They are probably hiding somewhere on the ship, waiting for an opening to override a security detail and steal an escape pod,” Spock suggested, watching as the entire security crew started to panic on how to immediately deny the Captain and First Officer all access.

Jim nodded. It was the best she could come up with—breaking out of the brig should have been impossible to begin with, let alone getting off the ship.

The next few hours were a blur, listening to inconclusive reports, lending her technical skill and her muscle where she could. She finally snuck away to an empty conference room, collapsing in a chair and sitting pushing her heels of her hands into her eyes until she saw fireworks. She could only escape for a brief moment but it did her aching legs some good to finally sit.

The door whooshed slightly behind her and she smiled gently at Spock, who sat next to her, clearly just as exhausted. He slumped a bit in the chair, giving her a rare wry smile.

“Fun day,” she said, rolling her chair closer to his and laying her head on his shoulder. His back stiffened but he ever so slightly leaned his cheek on her forehead.

She relaxed in the faint smell of his shampoo and closed her eyes. If she concentrated, she could feel the slight psychic tug of skin-on-skin contact with a Vulcan. It was alien and comforting at the same time.

Their communicators beeped angrily for a good two minutes before either of them moved. Jim tried to come up with a sufficiently logical explanation for Spock’s disregard for duty but didn’t really have one. She counted that a victory.

Reading the updates, she groaned. The search was still coming up empty, which didn’t surprise her, but she and Spock were being requested to receive provisional IDs so they could go places unattended. The side effect of locking themselves out of the Enterprise was that they were _actually locked out_ of the Enterprise—Jim had bribed a cadet into letting her into the conference room to hide.

She was loathe to interrupt her impromptu Spock bonding session—it wasn’t just that physical contact was inherently pleasant, but the psychic connection had been slight but familiar. She knew that Spock had been able to read her surface thoughts and was okay with that. It wasn’t like her annoyance and exhaustion were surprises. But in return, she’d felt a slight comfort, like he was pushing something back into her mind.

It was good. It was really, really good. She could probe into the hows and whys later. She stretched as she stood, her spine cracking as she arched. The two of them silently went back to security HQ.

Cupcake handed them two guest badges and grinned. “I’m on your personal security detail,” he said, clapping her on the shoulder.

“Thank god, we’re saved,” she said, rolling her eyes. Hendorff was certainly big enough to beat up anything attacking them, but he wasn’t very bright and their two adversaries were brilliant.

She scowled at the guess pass, marked “J. Kirk”, and clipped it to her chest for lack of a better place to put it. “This is humiliating.”

“It’ll give you basic access. You’ll need someone to let you into restricted areas, including the bridge.” Cupcake smirked. “And you won’t be able to access your quarters.”

Jim groaned and made a big show of looking annoyed, even though she knew exactly why she couldn’t. They couldn’t take any chances with the parallel selves around. Spock looked mildly annoyed, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Cupcake, you gotta have good news for me soon,” she said, putting a hand heavily on his shoulder.

“You’ll be the first to know when I do. And I resent that name.” She gave him a syrupy sweet smile and marched past him to interrogate a passing security detail.

It was well past everyone’s bedtimes (including Jim’s—she’d been caught yawning at least two dozen times in the past hour) when they got any real update. A couple engineers had finally worked out the worm that had broken them out of the brig. Jim scowled; it had involved locking the brig computers into a diagnostic loop while systematically destroying files at each reboot of the system. It was inelegant but effective, a sort of whacking it with a hammer solution. It was exactly what Jim would have done in such desperate times.

“This whole sympathizing with the enemy thing is going a little bit far,” she remarked to Spock and Giotto. Spock gave her a knowing look while Giotto only shook his head.

“If only we had any leads on their hiding place,” he said. “My staff has combed every room of the Enterprise, but she’s just so big and there’s so many people. It would be far from impossible for them to evade capture.”

Jim nodded slowly. “We’re going to have to divert our attention. It’s not going to get us anywhere to keep searching like this. We should concentrate on guarding all possible exits and making regular patrols of the hallways.”

Giotto frowned. “They’re going to just bunker down until there’s a hole.”

“Exactly. They’ll have to come out eventually, if only to piss. But hopefully we can get enough staff to stop them no matter where they decide to go.”

“I don’t like it, but my men are exhausted. I’m sending a shift to rest and diverting most of them to the exit points.” Giotto gave her a brief salute and went off to relay his orders. Jim sighed with exhaustion at Spock.

“I’m taking a nap. Have fun with your freaky Vulcan sleepless mode.” Spock exhaled—it couldn’t really be called a snort, but it was probably the closest he could manage—and left to check on the bridge.

Cupcake showed her the guest quarters she could get access to. She groaned but thanked him, telling him to patrol the hallway if he must but please don’t stand right outside her door, that’s creepy. He waggled his eyebrows but agreed.

The room was plain and small but the bed was blessedly soft and she fell asleep nearly instantly. She dreamt in red and white and blaring alarms and it took her a full minute after waking up to realize that the screech was reality and not her imagination.

She nearly fell out the doorway, yelling for Cupcake. He was already at her door.

“What happened?” she said, frantic, pulling her boots onto her feet.

“They took an escape pod. They took out a dozen men on patrol, including Mr. Spock,” he said, already leading her at a sprint towards the bridge. “And we can’t reinstate your or his security permissions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any criticisms of my pseudoscience, knowledge of Star Trek canon, or treatment of trans identities (especially of trans women), feel free to share because I do not claim to be an expert (especially in pseudoscience. I might be a lifetime sci-fi nerd but I'm a social sciences kind of guy).


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